The first collected edition of the works of Oscar Wilde Edited by Robert Ross |
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LOTUS LEAVES |
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 | The first collected edition of the works of Oscar Wilde |  |
241
LOTUS LEAVES
------νεμεσσωμαι γε μεν ουδεν
κλαιειν ος κε θανησι βροτων και ποτμον επισπη,
τουτο νυ και γερας οιον οιζυροισι βροτοισι
κειρασθαι τε κομην βαλεειν τ' απο δακρυ παρειων.
κλαιειν ος κε θανησι βροτων και ποτμον επισπη,
τουτο νυ και γερας οιον οιζυροισι βροτοισι
κειρασθαι τε κομην βαλεειν τ' απο δακρυ παρειων.
There is no peace beneath the noon.
Ah! in those meadows is there peace
Where, girdled with a silver fleece,
As a bright shepherd, strays the moon?
Ah! in those meadows is there peace
Where, girdled with a silver fleece,
As a bright shepherd, strays the moon?
Queen of the gardens of the sky,
Where stars like lilies, white and fair,
Shine through the mists of frosty air,
Oh, tarry, for the dawn is nigh!
Where stars like lilies, white and fair,
Shine through the mists of frosty air,
Oh, tarry, for the dawn is nigh!
Oh, tarry, for the envious day
Stretches long hands to catch thy feet.
Alas! but thou art over-fleet,
Alas! I know thou wilt not stay.
Stretches long hands to catch thy feet.
Alas! but thou art over-fleet,
Alas! I know thou wilt not stay.
Up sprang the sun to run his race,
The breeze blew fair on meadow and lea;
But in the west I seemed to see
The likeness of a human face.
The breeze blew fair on meadow and lea;
But in the west I seemed to see
The likeness of a human face.
242
A linnet on the hawthorn spray
Sang of the glories of the spring,
And made the flow'ring copses ring
With gladness for the new-born day.
Sang of the glories of the spring,
And made the flow'ring copses ring
With gladness for the new-born day.
A lark from out the grass I trod
Flew wildly, and was lost to view
In the great seamless veil of blue
That hangs before the face of God.
Flew wildly, and was lost to view
In the great seamless veil of blue
That hangs before the face of God.
The willow whispered overhead
That death is but a newer life,
And that with idle words of strife
We bring dishonour on the dead.
That death is but a newer life,
And that with idle words of strife
We bring dishonour on the dead.
I took a branch from off the tree,
And hawthorn-blossoms drenched with dew,
I bound them with a sprig of yew,
And made a garland fair to see.
And hawthorn-blossoms drenched with dew,
I bound them with a sprig of yew,
And made a garland fair to see.
I laid the flowers where He lies,
(Warm leaves and flowers on the stone);
What joy I had to sit alone
Till evening broke on tired eyes:
(Warm leaves and flowers on the stone);
What joy I had to sit alone
Till evening broke on tired eyes:
Till all the shifting clouds had spun
A robe of gold for God to wear,
And into seas of purple air
Sank the bright galley of the sun.
A robe of gold for God to wear,
And into seas of purple air
Sank the bright galley of the sun.
243
Shall I be gladdened for the day,
And let my inner heart be stirred
By murmuring tree or song of bird,
And sorrow at the wild wind's play?
And let my inner heart be stirred
By murmuring tree or song of bird,
And sorrow at the wild wind's play?
Not so: such idle dreams belong
To souls of lesser depth than mine;
I feel that I am half divine;
I know that I am great and strong.
To souls of lesser depth than mine;
I feel that I am half divine;
I know that I am great and strong.
I know that every forest tree
By labour rises from the root;
I know that none shall gather fruit
By sailing on the barren sea.
By labour rises from the root;
I know that none shall gather fruit
By sailing on the barren sea.
| The first collected edition of the works of Oscar Wilde | |